


Roleplay

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: Clothing Kink, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-06
Updated: 2010-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attraction is a strange, complex, tangled up in non/fiction thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roleplay

The thing was, Bradley liked Anthony. Quite a bit, really. He was talented, generous, really handsome, and told Bradley what Colin would not, under any circumstances, eat. He ran through lines with Bradley and was possibly the most patient person in the entire universe when Bradley did things like follow him around on set when they didn't even have any scenes together that day.

He liked the way Anthony rested a hand on his shoulder, warm and strong, before they said good-bye at the end of the day. Bradley really liked the way he smiled and the way the light caught his eyes just before that smile turned into a laugh, especially if he was smiling at Bradley, or at something he'd done or said.

So, yes. Bradley liked Anthony.

Giles, however, Bradley _loved_ Giles.

~

"He isn't really very much like Giles, is he?"

Colin looked up from his lunch with the same confused frown that he seemed to give Bradley at least two or three times every day. "I suppose not?"

"It isn't just that he doesn't dress like a stuffy librarian. It's more…" Bradley made a complicated hand gesture that didn't bring the light of comprehension to Colin's face like it ought to. "You _know_."

"Really, I don't." Colin had soup, salad, and some sort of fruit thing on his tray. It was all very… vegetarian.

Bradley looked up to see if Anthony had a similar lunch and caught Colin's eye when he looked back down again. Colin might be a bit more like Giles than Anthony was, with his shy smile and soft speech, both of which hid a true wicked streak.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Colin frowned again and Bradley pondered what it might be like to come upon Colin when he was reading, to startle him into a stuttering expression of surprise. That wasn't such a bad image, really.

Colin in tweed, however. _No._ God, no. Bradley cringed at the thought, certain Colin would match one of his hoodies with the tweed jacket, which was completely not Gilesian, and flicked his eyes back to the other side of the canteen to watch Anthony get up for another cup of tea.

He was still in costume from his last scene and the bright smile around his eyes did funny things to Bradley's stomach. Because, in that moment, he was not Giles or Uther or Anthony, but somebody both familiar and unrecognizable, somebody whose smile, whose laugh, whose half-glance in his direction made need flutter inside Bradley.

Colin was still frowning at him in that confused manner, so Bradley gave himself a shake and swallowed back a forkful of pasta salad to try and quell the strange swell of pleasure he got from watching Anthony walk out in Uther's clothes.

"Uther's not much like Giles, either, is he?"

A noise of exasperation came from the other side of the table and Bradley heard Colin's chair push away from it. "Remind me why we're having this conversation again? Actually, never mind, don't."

"Oh, Colin. Come on… _Colin!_"

But Colin and his annoyed-confused frown was already gone by the time Bradley said anything and he was left with just the strange, fluttering warmth in the pit of his stomach.

~

The evening ended like almost any they spend on set together. Everyone looked pleased and exhausted and Anthony walked over to Bradley before he said anything to anyone else.

No; that was different. Bradley usually walked over to Anthony. But tonight Anthony came to stand by him, clapped Bradley on the shoulder, and stayed close as they talked to the rest of the cast and crew on the set. Once the room was almost empty, Anthony gave Bradley a little nudge.

"Don't turn around." Anthony's hand rested on Bradley's shoulder again, gentle, but with enough weight that Bradley didn't think twice about disobeying him. "I love watching you walk out of the throne room when you're wearing this coat."

Bradley's breath hitched quietly in his chest. They were close enough that nobody else could hear what Anthony's said to him and that Bradley could feel the words brush against his ear, the barest touch of lips against his skin.

"I love the set of your shoulders… So strong, and almost, but not quite, insolent. Confident."

Thank goodness Anthony couldn't see him, because Bradley was smiling all of a sudden. The warmth that was gathering in his stomach felt like both arousal and nerves and it was delicious. He could play this game. Maybe. "So. You like watching _Arthur_ in this coat?"

Anthony made a thoughtful sound and his thumb rubbed slowly up and down over the curve of Bradley's shoulder. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I like watching you play Arthur and seeing that moment when you're both him and yourself."

"But not him."

"And not yourself. No."

The thumb that was rubbing over Bradley's shoulder moved in small, tight, warm circles, massaging him through the layers of clothing he had on. Through the hunting coat he still had on, _Arthur's coat_, and if he were Arthur, he wouldn't just stand here, fumbling for something to say while being incredibly over-aware of how hard he was getting.

Anthony's touch brushed the back of Bradley's neck, and, like his words, it was more an almost-touch than any real contact at all, light enough to send a shiver right down Bradley's spine. In return for that, he almost-turned, almost looked back at Anthony, imagined he was Arthur for just a moment (because, if he imagined any longer than that, then the glimpse he got of Anthony's mouth out of the corner of his eye looked too much like Uther, and even Bradley's mind might explode if he let it go there), and bit his lip when Anthony's breath caught.

And they were both just standing there. Anthony's hand on Bradley's shoulder, both of them breathing a little too loudly and standing a little too close. Bradley was already aroused, his erection straining against his trousers (no, he reminded himself, _Arthur's trousers_), and he couldn't reach down and rub himself against the palm of his hand or turn the few inches it would take to rub himself off against Anthony. Not that he could move even if the room was suddenly empty and the rest of the cast and crew were gone. All he could do was stand in the middle of Camelot's throne room and concentrate on his own short, sharp breaths and on the tight grip of Anthony's hand on his shoulder.

He couldn't move because Arthur wouldn't move. Arthur would stand here and challenge the hold that Anthony would have on his shoulder; he might throw a glare back at Anthony, touch the tip of his tongue to his lips, square his shoulders and press back against Anthony before walking out of the room, tall and proud, even if he were shaking inside.

But, Bradley _was_ and _wasn't_ Arthur. He wasn't even sure he was himself right now. He had the shaking inside part down all right. Glancing over his shoulder and down at Anthony's hand, just before he shrugged it off and walked toward the door, took all of Bradley's self-control. His body wanted the exact opposite – wanted Anthony's hand to slide down his back and around to his press over his cock, tight and warm, and to slowly untie his breeches and slip inside to pull and stroke and bring Bradley to a messy orgasm.

The want was so bad that Bradley had to bite his lip lest he break that strange spell of fiction-non-fiction they've woven around themselves. He looked back at Anthony for a second and knew it was worth it. There was a smile hovering at the corners of Anthony's mouth and his eyes were dark with need.

~

The only thought that got Bradley back to his trailer without coming in his trousers first was that wardrobe would _kill_ him if he did. And the wrath of the wardrobe department was enough to cut through Bradley's lust despite the raging hard on.

His hands were trembling as he pulled off the hunting coat and boots, struggled out of the breeches and half got himself out of the tunic before he could wrap his fist around his cock and grip the edge of a chair with his other hand to steady himself.

He didn't even know if it was Giles or Anthony or Uther that he was thinking about, because all his mind could remember was the feel of the man's hand on his shoulder and the sound of his voice, deep and soft, in his ear.

Bradley came so fast and hard that he spilled come all over his hand and the back of the chair he was leaning against.

Sinking to his knees, he pulled one of his own tee shirts from the pile of clothing on the floor and cleaned himself up with a shaking hand. Somehow, Arthur's tunic survived the ordeal with only a sweat-soaking and Bradley peeled it off before resting his head against the back of the chair.

Wardrobe was only going to end up hating Bradley. But it was Anthony who was going to be the death of him.

~

Colin agreed to watch _Buffy_ with Bradley with two stipulations. First, that there would be a plentiful and steady supply of alcohol and, second, that Bradley would keep his mouth shut and not provide a running commentary.

Bradley bought enough beer to get them through at least a half-dozen episodes and managed to stay quiet through most of them. Colin was drunk enough not to care that they weren't watching them in any special order and he let Bradley fill in plot-points and asked Bradley various questions about characters and places. He even declared himself generous and allowed Bradley to have a moment where they paused the dvd and Bradley waxed lyrical about Sunnydale High School Library and Giles walking around it wearing braces, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up.

"Aren't they brilliant?"

"What?" Colin was more bemused than confused this time thanks to the beer.

"_Everything_." Bradley made a grand, sweeping gesture. "The books and the Hellmouth and Giles' braces and glasses and tweed and the way he… _is Giles_."

Colin just reached for another bottle for himself and handed an open one to Bradley before he could start talking again. "Right. Next episode."

~

Bradley thought he knew what to expect the next time he wore Arthur's hunting coat. That expectation sent a little, dizzying rush of arousal through him as soon as he slipped the coat over his shoulders and Bradley had to remind himself that, no, Arthur would not walk into the throne room half-hard.

Once they started going through the scene, it was much, much easier. Bradley had a whole host of other things to concentrate on that weren't, for instance, the way Anthony would glance at him across the room or the way the coat would stretch over his shoulders if he moved or turned a certain way.

It helped that at last half his scenes were with Colin. Who, granted, had the potential to be distracting in his own right, but Bradley chose to participate in selective distraction today.

He was still surprised, however, when, at the end of his last scene with Anthony – his last scene for the day – Anthony didn't wait for the room to clear to place his hand on Bradley's shoulder again and, this time, to start to walk him out of the room.

"I think we should talk."

Bradley didn't look up at Anthony just yet. His heart was pounding uncomfortably loudly in his chest and, if Anthony used that firm, quiet tone of voice on him again, it was going to start pounding through his whole body really soon.

Apparently, when he said "I think we should talk," Anthony really meant, "We should go back to my trailer and you should definitely keep that hunting coat on and I will give you the most excruciatingly slow, most teasing hand job you've ever received before I ask you to suck me off, while you're still wearing that coat."

It turned out Bradley didn't have too much of a problem with being wrong about what to expect.

~

Buffy Night went really well for the next month or so. Probably because Bradley paid for all the beer and was getting better at not pointing out every single favorite scene he had from _Buffy_.

Around the middle of season five, Bradley paused the dvd player, and gave Colin a long look.

Colin replied with another of those confusing frowns that were getting more and more... frequent. Yes, but, also more endearing. "Are we having another moment?"

Bradley finished his drink, added the empty bottle to Colin's, and looked at Colin again.

"So. Merlin."

Colin nodded. "Merlin."

"Would he? _Hypothetically_. Sleep with Giles?"

Coughing and laughing, Colin had to put his own half-full bottle of beer down and catch his breath. "Merlin?"

"Yes! Yes. Would he? I mean… would he?" For some reason, this seemed like the most important question Bradley could ask. Probably inspired by the strange image he had in his mind right now of Merlin in Giles' shop, poking through all the merchandise, and looking incredibly pleased to find Giles there.

"No. He looks too much like Uther."

"Maybe not in this alternate reality."

"You mean, this insane, alternate, _hypothetical_ reality?"

"Well. Right. Yeah. He really wouldn't? Giles is _fit_. And incredibly intelligent. And…"

"… and we've already had this conversation about Giles. No," Colin repeated. "Besides, Merlin only fancies Arthur."

Like Anthony does. Sort of. And like Giles might. Sort of. Bradley rubbed a hand over his face. No way he was going to try and explain that one to Colin just yet. Though, he might understand... No, not yet. He leaned over and took Colin's beer from his hands and took a drink from that bottle.

"What if Arthur..."

"... fancied Giles?" Colin took his beer bottle back and finished it off. "I think you just like thinking about other men with Giles."

"I..." Bradley paused. Colin's lips were wet and pink and his arm was really warm where it pressed against Bradley. "... or with Merlin."

"Oh. _Oh._"

Colin smiled.

And before Bradley knew what was going on, he was smiling and kissing Bradley, and pulling him down until they were both sprawled on the floor. Bradley was already out of his tee shirt had his hand up underneath Colin's when Colin nudged at him with one foot to stop.

"Wait." Colin pulled back a few inches and propped himself up on his elbows. "Are we having drunken sex because of some pseudo-fictional fantasy of yours?"

Bradley, his hand still on Colin's chest, shrugged. "Sort of? I mean… is that all right?"

"Sort of?" A smile started to form at the corner of Colin's lips.

Bradley leaned in closer so he could stroke his fingertips over Colin's chest. "It's not just… you, you're…" This pale, skinny, Irish boy with an amazing smile and huge heart. He was _Colin_ and _Merlin_ and he was completely warm and real underneath Bradley, not fictional at all. Not even pseudo and Bradley had no idea how his alcohol and lust infused brain could even manage that distinction. "_You_."

"That I am. And you're _you_." Colin's fingers brushed over Bradley's to guide his hand lower on Colin's body. "So."

"It's all right?"

"Oh, yes…"

The kisses were sort of sloppy and clumsy, but Colin felt good squirming beneath Bradley. They both laughed when trying to get completely naked and onto the bed proved more of a challenge than it should've been and Colin decided at some point that Bradley should just not wear socks if he was going to plan on engaging in amorous play.

"_Amorous play?_" Bradley slid his hand down Colin's side and rested on his hip. "_Who_ says that?"

"I do." Colin looked completely and ridiculously serious.

"Only when you're drunk, mate."

"Right. Fine." Colin pressed up against Bradley and pushed his tongue right into Bradley's mouth. "Fucking… we're fucking. Drunk and messy and all over your bed…"

Bradley couldn't disagree with that. Because they were, and they did, all over the bed, and it was good, even when he woke up at six in the morning, completely hung over, with Colin's face tucked in against his shoulder.

~

One evening, a few weeks later, it rained. The soft, quiet kind of rain that you can barely tell is falling until you walk outside and find yourself saturated in it a few minutes later. Angel and Katie had gone out for expensive girlie drinks and Colin was down with a cold, so Bradley was left to his own devices. On Buffy Night, too, and he couldn't very well have Buffy Night without Colin.

An hour of television he didn't understand and a half bottle of beer later, he found himself out in the corridor in front of Anthony's room. It was only after he knocked on the door that Bradley realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Or do. Or… anything. Except stand there and be awkward.

Anthony looked surprised, then pleased, and then, when Bradley fumbled for words, amused. "Bradley. Why don't you come in?"

"Cheers." Bradley followed Anthony into his hotel room. Like Bradley, he was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, though Anthony's feet were bare and the rumpled state of the bedcovers indicated he'd been sitting there. Reading and drinking wine, Bradley noted, and couldn't stop the warm swell of both fondness and arousal he got from the image. "I'm not interrupting anything? I thought we could… talk? Or…"

"We could talk," Anthony replied. He offered Bradley wine and took a sip from his own glass after Bradley refused. "Or… not. That's up to you."

Only a couple of the lights in the room were on and the window was open enough that Bradley could hear the soft patter of rain outside. He stood close enough to Anthony that he could feel the warmth of the other man's body and could smell the scent of clean, soap-scrubbed skin. At the thought of trying to start a real conversation right now with Anthony, Bradley felt his mouth go dry and his tongue clumsy. His hands, however, easily slid up Anthony's chest to rest on his shoulders and pull him into a kiss.

Aside from an easy one to make, that decision must've been the right one, because Anthony moved into the kiss with a low, pleased sound. His hands rested at Bradley's waist to keep their bodies close and when Bradley broke the kiss, he smiled against Bradley's lips. After a few breaths, he returned the kiss, first brushing his lips over the corner's of Bradley's mouth, then kissing his upper and lower lip, and then finally slipping his tongue into Bradley's mouth and kissing him more slowly and deeply than before.

Bradley tipped his head to the side to nuzzle a few warm kisses against the side of Anthony's neck and to breathe in the scent of his skin again. A nudge against Anthony got him to sit down on the edge of the bed and got Bradley to make a sound of appreciation.

"Perhaps we won't talk tonight. I do want you." Anthony tugged at the hem of Bradley's shirt.   
The brush of his fingers against Bradley's skin heightened the anticipation Bradley already felt. He knew he had to find out now, to ask the question he'd wanted to ask since he met Anthony and even more so since they'd first touched. It would've been embarrassing, but he'd long since come to realize that desire and attraction were a tangled up mess of emotions inside him. Inside _everyone_.

Bradley swallowed past the dryness in his throat and took a step away from Anthony. He tugged his shirt off, paused, and stepped in close again to let Anthony map his hands over Bradley's chest. "What… what about Giles? Would he…"

Anthony didn't look especially surprised at that question. Not that he should be – Bradley hadn't exactly made his affection for Giles a secret.

"Maybe he'd prefer Merlin? With the magic and…" Bradley paused at the touch of Anthony's hand on his hip. "Oh."

Anthony drew Bradley in close again to stand between his legs. The thoughtful look still on his face, he skimmed his hand over Bradley's chest and stomach. "He would… He'd tell you…" It was Anthony's turn to pause. He ducked his head, smiled, and looked up at Bradley bashfully. "You're so beautiful."

Bradley got out another incredibly articulate "Oh."

"Beautiful," Anthony repeated, "but, also, talented, enthusiastic… different from all the other young people in Sunnydale." He rested the palm of his hand over Bradley's stomach, just where it met his hip, and leaned in close. "Bradley," he murmured, pressing a warm, firm kiss to Bradley's stomach, and Bradley felt a little dizzy at the feel of lips and voice against his skin. _Giles-voice._

Bradley didn't really have to close his eyes to imagine anything, but he gave himself that luxury for just a few seconds. Library; Magic Shop; Giles' flat, the door locked and the lights low; the stairs up to the loft bedroom.

"That feels… you feel _amazing_." Bradley curled his hands around Anthony's neck to keep him near for a little longer.

"Good. Because that's how I want to make you feel."

There was nothing that wasn't amazing about the way Anthony pressed Bradley down onto the bed and proceeded to kiss his way down the entire length of Bradley's torso. Or about the way their bodies felt against each other, naked and aroused. All the little noises and movements Bradley made seemed to be enough to tell Anthony that Bradley liked it best when he used his mouth to touch Bradley, to bite, lick, kiss him all over.

By the time Anthony reached his cock, Bradley was so needy that he was gasping and sweating and twisting his hips up closer to lips that barely touched him. He kept teasing Bradley, licking the tip of his erection or pressing kisses to the inside of his thighs, and then laughing when Bradley cried hoarsely with frustration.

He couldn't help it. His whole body _needed_ so badly. The places on his body where Anthony had bit him still stung and the places where he'd licked him were still damp. All the places where Anthony had touched him felt as if they vibrated with the need that filled Bradley from the inside out. He touched Antony wherever he could, stroking his shoulders or his hair, resting a hand on his side as he reached over Bradley to the nightstand by the bed for lube and condoms.

The need was enough that Bradley was sure he couldn't last any longer, but Anthony kissed him and touched him in a way that made it easy to move onto his stomach. Bradley shivered and panted at the touch of slick fingers pressing into him and Anthony laughed again, the sound coming from deep in his chest. Anthony leaned in to nuzzle a kiss against the base of his spine and whispered something soothing there and Bradley shuddered at that too gentle contact.

Then. _God_. Then Anthony's arm wrapped around his chest and pulled Bradley back against him, and it was painful and brilliant and Bradley didn't care that his throat was getting roughed up from the sounds he was making. He didn't care or think about anything aside from how full he was, how tight his muscles were strung with arousal, and how that arousal was on the brink of slipping out of the last shred of control he had over himself.

The hand at his chest slipped down to stroke his erection and from there it didn't take much. Bradley came with such a cry that it felt like it was wrung out of him and out of all that need he'd been storing up over the past few months.

It didn't all drain away until he felt Anthony press harder and further into him, pull out, and then push in even further and still. Just for a few moments, but long enough that Bradley could feel how he shook with need right before his own climax.

Heavy warm bodies and sticky sheets were all Bradley comprehended before dropping off to sleep for a while. When he woke up, Anthony had shifted them to a dry section of his bed and had pulled a clean sheet over their bodies. This time Bradley accepted the wine Anthony offered him and settled himself against the pillows to let Anthony settle his head against Bradley's chest.

The rain was falling harder outside and before he fell asleep for real that night, Bradley thought about Angel and Katie chasing each other back to the hotel in the rain; about how he and Colin would probably have Buffy Night later that week; about the hand splayed over his rib cage and about how amazing and different all his expectations and fantasies were from their fulfillment.

~

"Did you manage Buffy Night on your own last night? Drink yourself into a Giles-induced stupor?" Colin sat down next to Bradley in the canteen, another depressingly vegetarian lunch full of green things on his tray.

"There is no Buffy Night without you. You know that."

The confused smile Colin gave was nice. Nicer than the confused frown, though Bradley still sort of liked that expression on Colin's face.

"You… you were all right last night?" Colin asked after a few minutes silence.

Bradley nodded. From the way Colin asked that question, he was pretty sure he could explain the whole Giles-Anthony thing to Colin, or, maybe not explain the weird twisted up thing that was need and desire inside him, but… Colin would _get_ it, or, at least, he'd listen once they settled in for the evening.

"So, _hypothetically_, if somebody were to ask you, _Colin Morgan_, to keep coming 'round after watching _Buffy_ to watch _Angel_, and then maybe _Firefly_, you –"

"Would say yes."

"Brilliant."


End file.
